


The Guy With All the Scars

by bluetoast



Series: Angels and Ministers of Grace [4]
Category: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Art, Ben Solo is a sweetheart, Cold Weather, Estrangement, Gen, Rey Kenobi, Roommates
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-03
Updated: 2016-10-03
Packaged: 2018-08-19 10:22:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,502
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8201821
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bluetoast/pseuds/bluetoast
Summary: Of the four models that Rey Kenobi has seen in her Life Drawing class, the final one is a guy with scars. Some look old, others surprisingly new. She's certain she would be able to draw him a lot easier if she knew what the stories behind his wounds were. Ben Solo needs a roommate before his mother forces him to let a nemesis move in with him. Fortunately, a girl in the drawing class he's modeling for has just been handed an eviction notice.For HC Bingo - Loss of Home





	

It was pleasantly warm in the studio classroom. Rey had found it annoying at the start of the semester, back in August. Back then, there had been a space heater providing the warmth that caused the artists to swear under their breath in annoyance. Particularly if you hadn't been wise to what was going to go on in the classroom and hadn't known to take a seat closer to the door side of the room. But once the weather took a dramatic turn in the middle of October, she was thankful for the warmth. Her childhood in the perpetual heat of Texas left her ill prepared for the unholy demon that was Chicago in November. 

Her plans for this weekend including finding a coat before she caught pneumonia. 

Rey picked up her pencil and turned her attention to sharpening it as the door of the small changing room clicked open and a tall figure slunk into the room wearing the same bathrobe that all the models had worn when they entered the room. Unlike the first model, which the robe had practically swallowed, this guy was practically splitting the seams of the garment. She quickly ducked her head, keeping her focus on her sharpener, remembering the professor's lecture on how they shouldn't form opinions on their subject until they were actually their subject. She kept her head down until she heard the stereo click on and their eccentric teacher's music of choice, lullaby versions of rock songs started up. It was a Lady Gaga kind of day.

When she looked up, she almost wished she hadn't. 

All she could focus on were the scars. Particularly the very straight one that ran from his knee down to his hip. Rey looked over the edge of her sketchbook, towards the model sitting in front of her – his leg bent and his arm resting on his knee. Even though her view was from the side, she was relieved the man was sitting down. She didn't want to know how many more marks she'd find on his back or front. She adjusted her hold on her pencil, carefully noting the odd scar that bisected the man's face – the way it just sort of _dropped_ off of his jaw line.

That one was more intriguing than the one on his leg. What had caused that? It couldn't be that old, given how pink it was; starting just below his hairline, narrowing down between his nose and eye, before shooting down his cheek in an ugly, startling path. The leg one – that was clearly some kind of surgery. Had he had those parents who wanted a tall son so they had his legs surgically broken when he was little so his bones would grow? Did he have an identical scar on the other leg? She shook her head to clear it and turned back to her sketch, deciding to focus on his arm. His arm seemed safe. 

Four models into Life Drawing and only _now_ was Rey having an issue with the subject in front of her. The scars were more distracting than the dragon and sleeve tattoos that had graced the second model. She'd managed fine with those two weeks because they only worked in black and white. If she'd have been forced to use color, she would have no colored pencils left to speak of. 

Back to that arm...

And its until this moment unnoticed collection of scars.

Rey had to give the guy credit; he had the impassive look down perfect. Almost as if he regularly sat in an art studio completely naked in front of eighteen strangers three hours a week for the next four weeks. Then again, he was getting paid to sit there and let said art students gawk and draw him, so maybe that was enough motivation. Maybe he was doing it to get plane fare home for the holidays, saving up for an engagement ring... She shook her head to clear it and went back to work. 

She was going to have to look past the scars if she wanted to finish up any work and get through the rest of the semester.

*

Ben hunched his shoulders against the wind, walking as quickly as he could down the sidewalk. The quicker he walked, the sooner he'd get to the station, and while that wouldn't make his train come any faster, he'd be out of the wet snow. Given the choice between the two, he'd take the fast accumulation of New England snow any day over the wretched mess that he was currently wading through. He'd nearly laughed the first time someone told him about 'lake effect' snow. He knew _perfectly_ well what that was. He just happened to have gotten said snow from Lake Erie instead of Lake Michigan. 

They should try a nor'easter sometime. 

He tightened his grip on his scarf as he walked quickly up the stairs, salt crunching underneath his boots and he reached the top, he caught sight of a young woman hunched over in the cold in nothing more than a thick hooded sweatshirt and scarf, hugging herself against the cold. She was either crazy or from Alaska. At least she had the sense to wear gloves. When he stopped next to her, he purposefully stood to her right; blocking some of the wind from turning her into an ice cube. 

“Thanks.” Her voice came out in a chatter, and she glanced up at him, frowning for a moment then looking away, down the tracks, in the wrong direction for the train. 

“You're welcome.” He straightened, stuffing his hands into his pockets, not concerned in the least. Most people looked away from him once they saw the scar on his face. “Don't worry, the L will be here soon.” 

“My socks are wet.” She answered, and he looked down to see her barely-holding together boots, before looking up at him with a sheepish grin.“I kept meaning to get a coat and new boots, but I found that I like to eat too.” He could see the spattering of freckles across her face, along with bright hazel eyes.

Ben tossed his head, shaking his hair loose. “There's an army surplus near where I work, over in the Shatto Shopping Center.” He nodded down to his feet. “If you don't object to the combat type of shoe.” He saw her head turn to look at his boots. “Good for every kind of weather – from snow to sand.” He glanced back at her feet. “They should have your size.” 

“I know where that is.” She stepped closer to him, looking sheepish. “Now if I could just find the time to get over there.”

“I suggest going when the snow stops.” He let out a breath as the familiar and welcome sound of the train reached them. “We'll be out of the air soon.” 

“How did it get to be November so soon? It seems like September was last week.” She muttered as the train came into sight.

“Don't ask me, I went into work one morning and we had autumn items set up in the front of the store and when I came out that afternoon, they'd turned into Christmas ornaments.”

The girl chuckled. “What happened to Halloween?”

“I have no idea. I just found a bowl full of candy in the break-room as evidence the holiday must have existed at one point.” He answered as the train stopped and they joined the small stream of commuters who filed onto the car. He lost sight of the girl in the shuffle, and as he sat down, he suddenly realized that he'd seen her before. Just off his right shoulder, second row back – in the drawing class. Ben inwardly sighed as he tucked his ear-buds in and turned to stare out the window as the train lurched forward. 

Thirty minutes from home.

Ben shifted in his seat, trying not to think about that other home; back in New England. He was fairly certain that he could pick up the phone and call, but he'd been told to get out and not come back until he came to his senses. That was six years ago and there were times he just wanted _out_. He had been far too strung out on painkillers this past June to remember most of what happened. His time in the ICU was a haze; his father had never shown up, and he didn't recall a thing that was said between him and his mother. 

Instead of his parents, his Uncle Luke had shown up and, in typical Uncle Luke fashion, not gotten involved in the mess that was the Solo family. When he'd gotten home from his fortnight in the hospital, he'd found his apartment clean, his pantry and fridge stocked, and his cat eagerly waiting for him. If it had been only his mother, she'd have used his incapacitated state to pack all of his stuff up into a U-Haul and taken him back to New York and dumped his beloved pet at the pound or worse. He would have been angrier about the cat than anything. 

Fuck, Ben hated the cold. It made his legs and ribs ache and he just wanted to go home and soak in the tub. 

*

Every door in the hallway had one. Rey ripped down the yellow piece of paper, wanting to scream. An eviction notice. She fumbled with her keys, keeping her face perfectly calm. She'd look the paper over, see how long she had to get out, and then she'd make a plan. She had friends she could crash with, if nothing else she could stay in their places while they went home for Thanksgiving. She slammed the door closed, locked it and then dropped her bag next to her bed. “Damn it!” She tugged off her boots and grabbed a pair of dry socks from her tiny dresser, balancing on one foot then the other to pull her wet socks off and put the others on. 

She took a deep calming breath, her mind racing. For about the millionth time since she got here, she wished she had gone to college with her friend Finn, instead all the way up here in Illinois. Rotten, cold, wet and dreary Illinois. It'd been great in August and September. Then the weather had turned on her and now she was in a frigid hell that she never could quite escape. “I bet it's still warm and sunny in Georgia right now.” She grumbled as she took off her soaked hoodie, hanging it near the radiator to dry. She glared at the snow outside, “Well, at least you're not ice.” 

Rey picked the letter back up and scanned it, stating she had two weeks to 'vacate the premises.' “What kind of asshole kicks people out of their homes in this weather?” She set the notice on top of her dresser and folded her arms, trying to think which of her friends at school actually lived off campus. Whatever made her decide to live _off_ campus? She could be in a snug little dorm room right now, with a heater that wasn't prone to cutting out in the middle of the night, with a bathroom that wasn't the size of a matchbox and wasn't a forty-five minute train ride to class. “No wonder the rent was cheap.” She walked over to the kitchenette and filled her hotpot with water. She could think better once she was warm and had eaten. While she waited for the water to boil, she changed into dry sweatpants and a thick sweater, leaving the damp clothes to hang by the radiator as well. “It's going to be fine. I've been in worse situations than this.” 

She got out a cup of instant ramen and poured the hot water over it, letting out a breath. “I'm not going back to Texas.” She sat down in her lone chair, tucking her feet under her to warm them faster. She'd check the bulletin board in the art building for roommates wanted first thing tomorrow. There were always postings for those. 

*

Ben let out a relieved groan as he lowered himself into the steaming tub. He leaned back, closing his eyes. The lavender scented Epsom salts were definitely worth the extra two dollars a package. He stretched out, already halfway relaxed. Even though he knew it was counterproductive to what he was doing, he left his cell-phone within arm's reach. The bathroom door creaked open and a small plaintive meow came towards him and he opened his eyes, letting one arm dangle out of the claw-footed tub. “And good afternoon to you, Arya.” He chuckled as the black Maine Coon cat pushed herself under his hand. “Oh, it's been that kind of day for you too, has it?” He ran his hand down her back. “No swimming today, young miss. It's too cold.” 

His cell-phone went off, causing the cat to hiss and run out of the room, the jarring ring-tone was enough to identify the caller. “Oh this can't be good.” While he was half-inclined to ignore it, he knew better. “Hello, Mother.” 

“On the second ring, that's an improvement.” Her tone was clipped, and the lack of greeting already put Ben even more on edge. They hadn't talked since June, and he had a vague memory of telling her good-bye, and how she was always leaving him behind, but other than that... “Were you expecting a call?”

“Does that really matter?” He replied, sinking back into the tub. “How are you and Dad?” He was too tired and in too much pain to argue right now. 

“We're fine. I don't suppose we can expect you for Thanksgiving again this year.” There was a muffled sound and she said something to whomever she was in the room with. “It's been a while since you've come home.” 

“You're the one who told me not to come back until I'd come to my senses. That was over five years ago, and I got my undergraduate degree last May. With honors, did you know?” It came out in a hiss. “And the graduate program is going along just fine, really looking forward to my last semester, and oh yes, all my broken bones have healed from the accident.” 

“Don't start with me, young man.” Her voice was icier than the weather outside. “You're the one who chose to go to _that_ school.” 

It was on the tip of Ben's tongue to point out that his uncle, her _twin_ had gone to _that_ school, along with _both_ of their biological parents. He just wanted this conversation done with. “What is it that you want mother? You never call without a purpose.” 

“Senator Hux's son is starting at Loyola in January.” She cleared her throat. “You remember Armitage, yes?”

“I already have a roommate, mom.” The lie came out perfectly. He'd rather live in a cardboard box than share this apartment with that asshole. “Besides, I think he might be offended by the zip code.” He smirked. “What happened, Yale not let him into their law program?”

“Don't start!” Her tone was one of controlled rage. “You could have gotten into that school with ease. Or Columbia, for that matter.” 

“It was nice talking to you, Mother. Tell dad I said hi, and no, I'm not coming back.” He was about to hit 'end call' when she spoke up again.

“Let me talk to your roommate. Prove you're not lying.” 

“They're in class and there's no way I'm letting the guy who made my life hell in high school live with me.” He sat up, his relaxed mood completely gone. “Or have you forgotten that?”

“Now, it wasn't that bad...” He recognized the placating tone and it made him want to vomit.

“You're my _mother_.” It came out in a hiss. “You're supposed to be on _my_ side. Or have you forgotten that too?” He ended the call and dropped the phone on the floor. “Damn it.” He pinched his nose and sank under the water, holding his breath as long as he could. In the depths of the water, he could hear his phone going off again, the ringing muffled. 

He knew the next time she called, he'd have to prove that he did, in fact, have a roommate. Well, other than his cat.

*

Rey scanned the bulletin board, her sense of dread growing stronger with each passing ad. All of the rents were way over her budget. Not if she wanted to eat and have other basic necessities. She inwardly cursed her scholarship's lack of housing inclusion, but then, given the choice of having to work for rent or work for tuition, she'd take rent. “Okay, maybe I overlooked one.” 

“You must live in the Crestfield Complex.” A gruff voice said from her left and she turned. It was Scars again. “Or any of the other apartments that was bought in that real estate deal over the summer.” 

“How'd you guess?” She gave him a sheepish smile. 

“Watching the news, against my better judgment.” He shrugged. “Although that place has been more of an education major's sort of place, rather than fine arts.” 

“It's the only place I could afford.” She gave him a sideways look. “Uh, forgive me if this sounds wrong, but there's no class today. Not... _that_ class, at least.” 

“I have classes of my own, you know.” He grinned, then something in his face changed. “What's your rent budget?” 

She adjusted her backpack, “Two fifty.” She held out her hand. “I'm Rey, Rey Kenobi by the way.” 

He took her hand and shook it. “Ben Solo. Nice to meet you, Rey.” His smile grew more certain. “And your budget is almost exactly half of what my rent is.” 

“And how big is your apartment?” she gave him a wary look. For all she knew, this guy lived in a studio that wasn't much bigger than the closet she currently called home.

“Eighteen hundred square feet.” He shrugged, and he didn't react to her jaw dropping. “Rent control is a beautiful thing. So I had to live with a seventy year old woman who was my grandmother's best friend for the first three years of college, it was worth it for the rent and the Sunday dinners.” 

Rey closed her mouth, her mind racing. “We're strangers.” 

“So is nearly every person shoved into a dorm room at the start of each semester. And they have to share a tiny space.” He shrugged then paused, “you're not allergic to cats, are you?”

She shook her head, half convinced she was having a fever dream. “I don't smoke or drink either.” She frowned. “Um... this is sounding a little too good to be true. Would it be all right if I saw this place first? Just to ah... make sure?”

“Not a problem.” Ben smiled, “after class tomorrow?”

She went pink, recalling that she'd be looking at this guy naked in less than twenty four hours. “Sure.” Rey straightened up. “How many cats do you have?”

“Just one. She's a bit of a diva, but she doesn't claw anything, if that's what you're worried about.” He took a breath. “After class then?”

“Sure.” She ran her hand through her hair, trying to think if she should look at this as a blessing or if she should be worried. Well, if she could survive over a dozen years in foster care, she could survive just about anything. “Oh, could I get your cell number? Just in case?” 

“Not a problem.” He dug into his backpack, pulled out a scrap of paper and scribbled on it before handing it to her. 

Rey glanced at the number. “That's a four, right?” She pointed to the middle of the second set of three numbers. 

“Yeah, it's a four.” He smiled, then looked at his watch. “I've got to run.” 

She nodded. “Gotcha. And thanks!”

“Not a problem!” He turned and jogged up the hallway, and she found herself watching him go. 

“I hope I am not doing something extremely stupid.” She stuffed his number into her bag and headed off to her own class. 

*

Ben spent his Tuesday evening cleaning up the apartment. Between himself and Arya, the place was far from a mess, but he felt he should at least put in the effort of dusting and making sure all the dishes were put away. He even made room in the pantry, putting all of his things on two of the four shelves, making space for his potential roommate's food staples. 

Now that potential roommate had a lovely view of his bare back and ass, and he was thankful she couldn't see his face. After his cleaning, the writing bug had bit and he'd spent hours hunched over his laptop, collapsing in exhaustion shortly after three and he'd wanted to murder his alarm clock when it went off at six. Really, he would have asked the professor if he could lie down today if he hadn't been worried he would nod off and start to snore. 

He wasn't about to fall asleep naked in a room full of strangers. 

Somewhere to his left, a student's cell phone went off and there were several grumbles throughout the room as it continued. 

“I'm sorry, I'm sorry...” The guy muttered from the corner of his eye, Ben saw him silence the phone and toss it, annoyed, back into his bag. 

“I will take this moment to remind you all that your cell phones are to be kept on silent and in your bags at all times during this class.” The professor's voice came from Ben's other side. “I would hope, this far into the semester, that you would have all memorized that rule.” Her tone reminded him of his mother. “You will find that this rule is common and almost standard with all professors and all classes, campus wide.” 

Ben saw a girl in front of him roll her eyes in response before turning back to her sketchbook. 

If they thought the art professors were hard core about the cell-phones, they should try the ones in the English department.

*

Rey decided that new address or no new address, Saturday she was going to that army surplus and getting a new pair of boots. She'd gone to the Goodwill yesterday afternoon and found an oversized coat. It was better than just her hoodie, and she pulled it on as Ben came out of the small changing room, yawning. “Don't you sleep?”

“Sometimes.” He shrugged into his own coat. “You have everything?”

She nodded and shouldered her bag. “At least it's not snowing today.” 

“Plenty of chance for it to do that before the end of the week.” He answered, and the two of them headed out of the classroom. “I do have to work over the weekend, just warning you.” 

“I'm planning on getting new boots this weekend, regardless of anything else.” She took a breath. “Where do you work?” She tried to remember the stores over in Shatto, but since she got out so little, she couldn't remember all of them. 

“I work in the frame shop at Michael's.” He smirked. “I know, such a glamorous life I live.”

“I don't think I'd be one to judge. I work at Aldi.” She shook her head as they came outside, and an icy blast hit them. “And sometimes, I still question why I left the south for this place.”

“Where in the south?” Ben asked, adjusting his hold on his own bag. “You certainly don't sound like you're from down there.”

“Texas.” She saw his expression change. “So don't mess with me.”

“I wouldn't dream of it.” He grinned. “Then again, I suppose I don't sound like I come from New York either.”

“City?” She asked as they came to the stairs to the train.

“State. I grew up in Buffalo.” He sighed. “And here I am, out on the plains.” 

“Ha! You haven't seen the prairie at all in this place.” She retorted, then saw his expression darken. “Sorry.”

“No, it's fine. Besides, usually the most people ever see of the Midwest from either coast is O'Hare.” He grimaced. “And I find myself hating the cold here more this winter than any previous ones.” 

They were both silent as the train arrived and they boarded, him shuffling her into two empty seats. It was always warm on the L, and that made the ride enjoyable, despite the odd smells. Rey glanced at Ben out of the corner of her eye, noting that his face kept its pained look. “Something wrong?”

“Ribs ache, I'll be fine in a little bit.” He smiled. “Word of advice, never break your ribs. They take forever to heal.” 

“What happened?” The question fell out of her mouth before she could stop it. “Accident?”

“Yeah.” He rubbed the bridge of his nose. “I was hit by a car and then the pavement had to put its two cents in as well.” 

“Ouch.” Rey blanched, and realized that suddenly explained a lot of the scars. “I'm glad you're okay.”

“Me too.” A tiny amused smile was playing at the corner of his mouth. “I should warn you before we get to the apartment, it's kind of old – and still has what some might call 'old lady' décor.”

She gave him a look, “let me guess, from your former roommate.” 

“Exactly. She moved to a retirement village in Scottsdale and the only thing she took with her were was her hope chest and clothes.” He saw her amused look. “You laugh, but none of her kids or grand-kids wanted what they called 'junk' and 'useless.'” He laughed. “I might be the only guy of your acquaintance who has a full china cabinet.” 

Rey couldn't hold back her laugh. “I bet you hate to do the dishes too.” 

“I only use the china for special occasions.” He looked affronted. “And no, before you ask, I'm not gay.” 

“I wouldn't have a problem with it if you were.” She leaned back. “So what is your major?”

“I'm a graduate student. Creative writing.” He answered, rubbing the back of his neck. “Or as my mother likes to call it, a 'colossal waste of time.'” 

“What does your dad say?” She frowned, wondering just what was wrong with writing. 

“He doesn't care. He was never around much when I was growing up. Things in my family are.... complicated and weird.” he rubbed his nose. “When I had my accident back in June, neither of them showed up at the hospital, but my uncle did.” He frowned. "At least, I know my dad didn't... I was out of it on painkillers for the first week, so I don't remember much of what went on between me and my mom." 

She didn't know Ben well enough to make a comment. But she could understand having jerks for relatives. Her whole life was that; her parents died when she was five and after it was determined that her trust fund was untouchable to _anyone_ including herself until she was twenty-four, any would be relations promptly vanished and she was left at the mercy of the Houston Children Services Department. “So your uncle's a decent person.”

“He's mostly decent. He went to De Paul too. Like both of his parents did.” Ben lifted his chin. “This is our stop.” He stood as the train slowed and she followed him out and into the bitter afternoon. “Best I can tell, after my grandfather died, things were a little... hairy for my mother and uncle, at least until grandma got remarried.” 

“Family drama?” Rey offered and saw him nod. “Your mom didn't go to De Paul?”

“No, she went to Yale, like her stepfather.” the way he said the last word told Rey there was an issue there. “I think my mom was embarrassed by my granddad because he was some farm boy from South Dakota who married a law student from New York. My uncle lives out on the family farm, which I have only been to a handful of times.” 

“Oh, I think I know where this is going. Is this more of that class warfare that we like to pretend doesn't exist in this country?” They went down the stairs and she followed Ben across the street, looking around at the older buildings towering over them. “Amazing what a mere fifteen minutes away looks like.”

“I know.” Ben answered. “And you're right about the class thing.” He nodded towards a walkway. “Don't worry, the elevator's younger than either of us.” 

She laughed as he punched the entrance code on the door and they stepped into a marble lobby, and she couldn't hold in the low whistle. “Damn.” She waited for him to fumble with his mailbox, taking out a stack of envelopes, catching sight of the Simon & Schuster logo on the corner of one of them, and noted the number on the box – 17-A, and that the numbers went up to 20. While there wasn't a doorman, this was about eleven steps up from where she was currently residing. She glanced sideways at the thick door, swallowing. You couldn't even tell it was freezing outside in this lobby.

He looked up at her, frowning. “Something wrong?”

“If I said this was starting to look too good to be true, would you be angry?” She shifted her hold on her bag again as they stepped up and he pressed the up button for the elevator. 

“No. I sometimes think the same thing.” He gave her a sideways look. “You still haven't said yes anyway.” The doors opened and they went inside. 

“At this point, I think I'd be crazy to say no.” She hit the number for the seventeenth floor. “Do you actually need a roommate, or is there something more going on here?”

Ben's ears went slightly pink. “I need a roommate to avoid getting a particular one.” The elevator slowly moved upwards. “So if you want to say no, I'm fine with that.”

Rey wasn't sure what to make of his reason. “Girlfriend?” It seemed like the logical place to start. “Soon to be ex-girlfriend?”

“No.” He ducked his head. “My worst nightmare from high school whose father happens to be good friends with my mother and I was the one who had to be told to be nice to him when he was the dirt-bag, and that's putting it nicely.” 

She folded her arms, leaning back against the wall. “Let me guess, he thinks he's master of the universe because his father's influential and all who catch sight of him should feel privileged just to see his shadow.” 

“Oh, you know the creep?” He answered, half laughing.

“I know the type.” She shook her head. “Let me guess, he's also everything your mom wishes you were.” 

“Something like that.” The elevator stopped and he held his arm over the opening as she stepped out. “It's a complicated mess.”

“Sounds complicated.” They went down a short hallway and Ben took out his keys, unlocking the short series of locks; there were only two, she noted. “Here we are. Hopefully, Arya hasn't thrown a wild party.” 

“That's your cat's name?” She stepped into the apartment and had to stop herself from gaping again. This wasn't an apartment, this was a bloody house! “Holy shit.” 

“Uh...” He shut the door. “My office is there,” He pointed to their right. “My room's next to it, there's the bathroom between the two bedrooms, and what you can use for an office or art room is over there.” He pointed to a door on the other side of a dining room. “Kitchen's back that way.” He set his keys on the table next to an overstuffed sofa, where a black cat was standing, watching the pair of them. “Good afternoon, miss.” He gave the cat a rub behind the ears. 

Rey took a few more steps into the apartment, leaning in the little hallway between the bedrooms and the bath. She didn't look into his room, but her eyes nearly bugged out of her head at the second one. There was a queen sized bed, a dresser and a closet, and she decided that she wouldn't even bother comment on the fact that the room had a pungent odor of Febreeze Rain Scent. Right now, she was trying to look on a downside, and couldn't find one. She'd be an idiot to pass this chance up. She turned back to Ben. “When could I move in?”

He blinked at her, almost as if he had expected her to say no. “Well...” Ben looked at his watch. “It's only four. If you don't have too much to move, we can go grab it out of your apartment now and you can handle all the paperwork you need to over the weekend.” 

Rey set her backpack down on the floor of the bedroom – _her bedroom_ – and fished her keys from the front pocket. “Sounds like a plan.” 

*

Ben didn't comment on Rey's small amount of belongings. Her entire wardrobe fit into one duffel bag and all of her art supplies were in a sixty-four gallon Rubbermaid container. What food she had fit into a single large canvas bag. It only took them the single trip and they were only gone from his – their – apartment for an hour. He set the container of supplies next to the disused office, turning the light on in the room. It was supposed to be the apartment's 'third' bedroom, and had been used as a room for the 'kids' to stay in when they visited. It had a futon and long low table that had been used for arts, crafts and Lego warfare. 

“I never did clean out the kid's stuff in here.” He called over his shoulder as she came out of the kitchen. “One of those things I still haven't gotten around to doing.” He went slightly pink. “I can't bring myself to get rid of the Legos, actually.”

“It's fine.” Rey set her hands on her hips, her face was bright with excitement. “I'm sorry, I keep expecting this to be a dream, because this... this sort of thing doesn't happen to me. I'm not used to this sort of luck.” 

Ben chuckled. “Don't worry, the first time Arya coughs up a hairball onto your favorite jeans, you'll come back to reality.” He turned. “Oh, that reminds me – the washer and dryer are at the far end of the kitchen.” 

She shook her head. “This is crazy.” She stepped out of the rear office and headed for her bedroom.

Poor kid was in shock. He'd been in a similar state the first day he arrived here and Aunt Sabe had told him all the things he was telling her. Ben shrugged and went into the kitchen, opening the pantry and taking out a box of penne and a jar of sauce. “You okay with pasta for dinner?” he called.

“Are you using the fancy china?” Rey's voice sounded amused.

“Of course! It's a special occasion!” He set the two containers on the counter and opened the freezer, tossing a ziplock bag of ground beef into the sink to thaw. Ben looked down at Arya, who was sitting in the doorway. “Don't even think about it, Missy.” 

Arya meowed in response and walked away, heading for Rey's room. 

An unfamiliar ring tone echoed through the apartment and saw Rey come out of her room, flustered. “Where did I leave it?” she went into the studio, and came back out, holding her phone, looking sheepish. “I'd forget my head if it wasn't attached to my neck.” She cleared her throat as she answered it. “Hey, Finn, how are you?” 

Who was Finn?

Even from nine feet away, Ben could hear the guy, Finn, he was screaming. “Rey? Rey is that you?”

“Yeah, Finn, it's me, what's wrong?” She looked over at Ben, her face full of confusion.

“Holy shit, Rey, have you not been back to your apartment?” Finn's voice went down by maybe an octave, but Ben could still hear him clearly. What had happened at Rey's apartment? Maybe there was a shooting near it and the guy freaked out. He took a step towards his roommate, a feeling of dread starting in his stomach.

“I moved, Finn. Just this afternoon, I'm fine, what's wrong?” Rey's voice went up in pitch; and Ben turned from her and turned the television in the living room on. After getting it off of ESPN and onto a local channel, the remote clattered to the floor and he didn't even register what Rey was saying.

There was the Crestfield Apartment Complex, completely engulfed in flames, with some reporter superimposed over the carnage, but he couldn't hear a word he was saying. Shit, Rey could have been in there.

“Rey? Rey, my battery's almost dead, I'm going to call you as soon as I get back to my dorm, okay?” Finn's voice sounded far away as the girl came over to him, her whole body shaking.

“O....okay. I'm fine, Finn.” She swallowed. “Tell Poe I'm fine.” Her phone slipped from her grasp as she ended the call. 

Ben did the only thing he could think of; he wrapped his arms around her, pulling her into a tight embrace. He felt her arms come around his waist, but she couldn't stop trembling. He held on to her, rubbing her back in slow circles. He didn't want to think about the fact that the girl in his arms could have been trapped in that inferno, if not for a string of coincidences that had her here with him instead. He smoothed down her hair and tightened his hold on her. “It's all right, Rey. It's all right.” 

She whimpered against him. “I could be _dead.”_

“Sssh.” He set a kiss on the top of her head. “You're not dead. You're here and you're safe.” He guided her over to the couch so they could sit down, and she didn't let go of him as they did. Here he was, a man of twenty-three with a eighteen or nineteen year old (he probably should find that out) crying in his lap. He didn't say anything more, he just sat and held her, ignoring the protesting pain in his legs, his arms and his ribs. 

Arya padded into the room and jumped on the couch, clearly not wanting to be left out of what the humans were doing and wormed her way into Rey's lap, licking at the girl's face. “You silly kitty.” Rey blubbered, not completely pulling away from him. “I'm sorry.” She adjusted how she was sitting, so her head was on his shoulder. 

He leaned back, closing his eyes. “Take as long as you need, Rey. I'm not going anywhere.” 

And he meant it.


End file.
